


The Woes of Fate

by Jules1398



Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fate, M/M, School, Students, Studying, teacher shipping their students
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 18:28:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3259910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jules1398/pseuds/Jules1398
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas always believed in fate. It could do good and bad and, this times, fate decided to screw him over by putting a really attractive blonde boy in front of him and causing him to fail English. Things weren't really looking up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Woes of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> This turned out pretty good surprisingly.
> 
> Send me prompts either via comment or as an ask on crackandcanonships.tumblr.com

Thomas always thought that fate was a curious thing.He always thought about how, if the littlest things were different, a person's life could be totally transformed. 

Like, what if he hadn't sneezed back in seventh grade? He may have never become friends with Minho, who had done him the gracious service of handing him a few tissues. Thomas couldn't even imagine his life without his best friend. It would have been so dull without his sarcasm and the pranks. Thomas probably would be too terrified to take risks, like that time they wrapped Teresa's dad's car in toilet paper with the key strapped to the vehicle.

But, the littlest things could also cause horrible things to happen. Maybe if, when Thomas was eight, he hadn't pestered his mom so much about his dad being too busy with work to spend time with him and his little brother, his parents wouldn't have divorced. Him and Chuck wouldn't have to drive three hours one weekend a month to see their dad, who was still bitter about the whole ordeal even though he had gotten married again to a (much) younger woman.

Though, sometimes he was just flat out annoying with fate as a whole because, maybe, if it weren't for fate, he wouldn't have been failing AP Junior English.

Thomas was generally a decently smart kid. He was in all advanced classes and tended to get A's and B's except for that time in freshman year that he had gotten a C+ in Drawing 1 because the teacher didn't appreciate his methods. (He was fantastic at drawing. Just not really at drawing the stuff she assigned). A failing grade was totally unacceptable even if it was a 59.9%.

To be honest, Thomas didn't even really know that he was failing until Mrs. Paige told him that she was going to email his parents about it and then proceeded to do just that.   
Seeing the expression the disappointment on his mom's face was enough to convince him to fix his problem. The fact that he'd also had to hear his dad scream over the phone for half an hour may have been another contributing factor.

Except, it totally wasn't Thomas' fault that he was failing. It was fate that decided to put him in a class with that hot golden haired British boy with the chocolate brown eyes and that laugh that was more pleasing to the ears than the singing of mockingbirds. It was definitely fate that placed him in the seat right behind him where he could smell the scent of cinnamon coming from the gorgeous blonde boy. How was Thomas supposed to focus with that sitting in the desk in front of him?

Thomas had never actually talked to the boy, but he knew that his name was Newt and he was in Alby's crowd even though he'd just moved to town from London that summer, so he was probably rich. Newt had a limp, so he couldn't play sports and he took modified gym, so Thomas' dream of one day sharing that class with him and seeing him sweaty every day was thrown out the window.

Nobody knew about Thomas' crush. Not Teresa, who was Thomas' sister even though they weren't related in any way, shape, or form. Not Minho, who usually was able to pester him until he knew everything about his life including his top five favorite board games from when he was six. Not even his little brother, Chuck, who was very perceptive for a chubby little thirteen year old and was the only person that knew Thomas was gay.

In hindsight, maybe Thomas should've told somebody. Specifically his mother because she always had great advice and she definitely had more experience with boys than he had. Maybe if he had told her, he wouldn't be where he was now.

Sitting in the public library alone on a Friday night waiting for the tutor that Mrs. Paige had chosen to help him. Thomas was slumped back in a big chair by the study desks when he could be doing much more productive things, like trying to hook up Brenda and Minho, which would be a public service to their entire school. He could feel the waves of sexual tension and sass radiating off of them from over a mile away. Alone. In the library. Waiting for a stranger.

Thomas scanned the parts of the library that he could see for anybody who could be his mystery tutor.

Maybe it was the girl in the corner with the glasses and acne. She seemed like the stereotypical nerdy tutor type. Though, she seemed to be looking in the foreign DVD section and that wouldn't do much good when helping somebody raise their English grade.

It probably wasn't the kid with the patchy beard. Dear lord why would somebody even do that to their face? It looked like a cat puked hairballs all over the place then just died.

Whoah, was that Winston? Thomas was surprised he even knew what a library or a book was based on the fact that last year he Thomas had to teach him left from right during gym class one day.

Oh hell, Thomas thought to himself. He could smell the cinnamon and spot that halo of hair from a mile away. It was him. It was the blonde. Newton Isaacs, hot British boy who also was incredibly smart and just completely and utterly perf-

"Hi," greeted the soft British voice like the song of doves. "Thomas, right?"

Many thoughts ran through Thomas' mind in that moment, the most prevalent one being 'holy klunk he actually knows my name.'

"Um, yeah. You're uh Newt, right? I think I sit behind you in English," Thomas blubbered in response, sounding like a total idiot.

"Yeah, you do." Newt sat down next to him and set his backpack on the ground. Shuck he was close. Not really any closer than they sat during class, but sitting side by side close was definitely closer than sitting in a line close. If that made any sense at all. "So shall we get started then?"   
Thomas awkwardly nodded and fished his blue notebook out of his backpack.

"Good that." Newt smiled at him and Thomas suddenly understood what people meant when they said that their hearts were practically beating out of their chests.

"So what's the issue, Tommy?" Newt asked, "Mrs. Paige wasn't really descriptive when telling me what you needed help with," Mother of the holy shank, Newt had given him a nickname. When Teresa had called him that as a kid, he had punched her in the nose, but suddenly it felt okay coming from Newt's lips.

Thomas shrugged and tried to remain cool. "I don't really know. I'm somehow failing this class. Everybody else seems to be having no trouble. Guess I'm just slinthead." Yes, what a fantastic tactic, Thomas, making yourself seem even stupider than you actually are in front of the guy you like.

"Well, can I see your notes then?" asked the blonde as he grabbed Thomas' blue notebook out from in front of him. Thomas was suddenly very thankful that he hadn't written down his actual thoughts during his English lessons.

Newt flipped through the book and frowned. The brunette slowly slunk back into his seat. "Tommy?" he asked.

"What?" Thomas replied slowly and cautiously.

"You only have two pages of notes in here. I think the issue is you literally only chose two days to actually pay attention in class this semester."

Thank god that the blonde hadn't made the connection that those notes were from the two days that he just happened to be absent.

"This doesn't usually happen, I promise!" Thomas blurted out in response, earning himself a scornful glance from one of the librarians.

"You know, if you're having trouble with other classes too, I can-" Newt began to offer.

Thomas pulled his purple Physics notebook out of his bag and flipped it open, revealing page after page of intricate and detailed notes. "Here's your proof that English is literally the only class I'm struggling with right now."

"But English is such a bloody easy class," Newt protested.

Thomas slightly flinched. He felt stupid and embarrassed.

Newt's eyes shot open, "I'm so sorry. We all have our struggles. Shuck, I of all people know that."

"What are your struggles?" Thomas inquired in total fascination with every aspect of the blonde boy.

"You're going to have to get me pretty drunk for that conversation." A woman walking by with her young "impressionable" son gave them a dirty look.

"Okay, so why don't you take notes inn English?" Newt asked, steering the two of them back on track.

"I just get distracted, I guess," Thomas shrugged, unwilling to tell him the full truth.

"Christ, Tommy, Mrs. Paige is like fifty!" Newt exclaimed with a scowl on his face.

Newt must have seen the sheer horror that was on his face on his face, because the other boy burst out laughing. If only the blonde could see the horrible images running through his mind. Then he wouldn't be laughing hat beautiful laugh of his.

"You're pretty fun, Tommy. Even though I'm being more like a therapist than an actual tutor right now," Thomas blushed and hoped to god that Newt didn't notice.

"Thanks?" For whatever reason, it came out more like a question. Thomas couldn't explain why, it was just one of those things that happened to him sometimes when he was flustered.

"You are very welcome," Newt chuckled. "So what is it that's distracting you?

"Well, um," Thomas began, twiddling his thumbs like a total idiot. "You see, well."

"Wow, now I see exactly why you're failing English," the blonde joked.

"Shut up," Thomas' face flushed a deep shade of red. He knew he wasn't exactly being eloquent, but somehow hearing Newt say it made him get defensive.

Newt looked at his phone and suddenly became very serious. "Look, we only have like an hour left. Do you want to just copy all of my notes then call it a day? I'm pretty sure that just writing the stuff down would help you significantly."

So, that's how the next hour went. Thomas copied Newt's notes in silence, feeling the heat of the blonde's gaze on him every few minutes when Newt decided to check up on hiss progress. It actually was quite helpful to know things like about a hundred vocab words, the symbolism in the Odyssey, and the difference between alliteration, consonance, and assonance. Thomas began to feel hopeful about getting his grade up to at least a C before the start of track season so that he could be on the team with Minho and some of his other friends.

The last page, which must have been from their lecture earlier that day was about the effect of fate in Greek literature.

"Wow, even these ancient losers are getting screwed over by fate," Thomas grumbled to himself.

"Fate does tend to screw with people, but sometimes good things happen," piped up a voice in a British accent next to him. Thomas jumped a little because he had somehow almost forgotten about the incredibly attractive boy sitting right beside him.

Thomas finished up writing and looked up at him. "Fate hasn't really done me much good in the past few years."

Newt snorted. "Is fate the real reason that you're failing English?"

"Yes," Thomas replied seriously.

Newt raised an eyebrow at him. "Really, Tommy? How so?"

Thomas' brain was fried. It was late and he had spent the past hour writing things down and learning at a faster rate than any person every should. This had to be why he mustered up the courage to reply with honesty.

"I mean, what were the chances that I'd be in the same class as you, much less be seated right behind you."

Newt's jaw dropped and the brunettes eyes widened, realizing which words had just come spurting out of his mouth.

"I mean-" Thomas quickly replied, wracking his brain for any way that he could remove himself from the extremely awkward situation.

"Shut your shucking face, Tommy," Newt commanded.

Thomas' mouth snapped shut and he desperately wished that he could just absorb into the library chair that he was sitting in.

"So let me get this straight," Newt began, "you've not only known I existed all shucking semester, but you like me. Well, you've liked me for a while, apparently. And it didn't even occur to you to, I don't know, actually speak to me some time?"

"I-"

"No, don't even try to defend yourself. I have been sitting in front of you for over shucking eight weeks, hoping that you, the slinthead jock that you are, would notice me even though I thought you were totally straight, which you're apparently not. We could have been dating by now. Friends at the very least. Also, you wouldn't be failing English because I wouldn't have let you."

"Can I talk?" Thomas finally got out.

Newt crossed his arms as if he was angry, but his face didn't look particularly mad, or happy, or anything really. Totally expressionless. It was actually quite intimidating. "Sure."

"I wanted to talk to you, but I was just scared and I'm not exactly out yet, so also the fear of being treated differently was tacked on to that. I know I should've taken my chance when I had it. I'm so stu-"

Thomas was interrupted by a gentle tap on his shoulder. "Excuse me boys, but the library is closing in five minutes, so please check out any necessary materials and leave."

The two boys nodded and hastily packed up all of their things. They shouldn't have been having their conversation in the middle of a library anyway.

"So," Newt said as they walked into the parking lot, not quite picking up the conversation from where they left off. "You need me to tutor you again some other time? I don't usually do tutor much anymore due to being busy, but Mrs. Paige insisted on me helping you out."

Thomas froze in his tracks and tightly gripped Newt's shoulders. "Oh my god!"

"What?" the blonde asked, startled and confused.

"Mrs. Paige ships us!"

Newt's eyes widened in realization. "Shuck, Tommy. You're totally right. Don't really blame her though?'

"What?" the brunette replied. How could he not blame her, it wasn't fate shucking up his grade and making him seem like a total slinthead, it was the dumb emotions of his English teacher.

Newt smirked. "I can't really blame her because I kind of ship us too."

Thomas didn't know what overtook him in that moment because, suddenly, he didn't care that they were standing under a streetlamp outside the public library. He didn't care who was watching them, even though his mom was sitting in her car a few yards away waiting for him to get in. Thomas didn't care that he was failing one of his classes. He was actually pretty grateful for it now. For once, Thomas was caught up in the now and he didn't shucking care about what all those other shanks would think.

Thomas reached up behind Newt's neck and pressed the other boys soft lips against his own.

Fate could go screw itself. This is where Thomas wanted to be. Forever.


End file.
